Of Warriors

In the realms of Eámanë, a small faction of Warriors including Raynor, Uriel and Paladin, is gathering on the western coast of Paragon, land of the Kaynanites. Their faces are somber, their voices stern and they speak in a language the Whisperers cannot understand.

"The Kaynanites are too proud," Uriel says. "We gave them the Watcher and they refuse to listen to him. Furthermore, they have exiled him to the darkness of the forest." He is angry-justifiably so. Uriel the Terrible is what the Whisperers call him.

Uriel: He presides over terror, easing it away from the righteous but feeding it to the wicked. His face, though pure and holy, has that sort of unfriendly look. One could not really look into his eyes for fear of being destroyed, though he has no intention of doing so-unless one deserves it. This was the case of the high-ranking Whisperer named Forgersage.

Forgersage has the ability to appear in whatever manner he chooses-demon, angel, man or animal. Most of the time he is invisible-or rather camouflaged, I should say.

In any case, it was upon the stone wall of the Watcher's castle, the two first met. Forgersage's cursed claw touched the skin of the Warrior's boot. The Whisperer turned its head slowly skyward and found Uriel, standing horizontally against the cold bricks, staring into his eyes.

"Curses on you," Forgersage snarled. "How is it you can see me?"

The rest of the Whisperer's platoon realized whom they had come up against. Each of them came to a complete stop. Fear caused them to lose their ability to blend in with their surroundings.

"Don't look into his eyes," they warned each other. "He sees us."

Uriel smiled. It was a horrible smile. Even before actual victory, he knew the outcome was in his favor. The rush of the wind howled around his long black cloak. Snake-like hair whipped around his face. His sword was drawn in his right hand and with his left he pointed to the first to die-Forgersage.

"Sword of the Watchers," whispered the one Uriel marked out for death. It was the last word to come from the Whisperer's decaying mouth. With just one swing of his Sword the Warrior decapitated Forgersage.

The Whisperer's companions scampered down the castle wall. But the Warrior's flight was not easily escaped. He released himself from Eámanëin bounds and followed his own path, soaring like a hawk and landing soundlessly on both feet. Such grace and power had the Warrior's glide that they hardly saw him at all. Before they could touch again the solid ground of Kaynan, Uriel stood waiting with that horrible smile.

Some Whisperers fell into the coldness of the moat and drifted lifelessly to its muddy banks. Not one would escape the abomination of Uriel. They died in the waters, in the mud and mire, and some midair before the loud thuds of twisted corpses hit the wooden slats of the drawbridge. The Warrior's holy anger consumed them one by one.

In the end, perhaps a handful remained and wistfully looked for help running towards the wooded areas. Uriel, with one leap, intercepted their retreat, and plunged his Sword to separate flesh from bone. Not from behind either did the Warrior take their lives, for that would be most cowardly. No, he confronted them so they could see his burning eyes and surrender to his blade.

"It is enough," Paladin, the Prince of Warriors, said. Uriel the Terrible finally stood motionless a distance from the castle. The Warrior Paladin, his closest friend, came to Uriel's side. Paladin settled Uriel's heart, placed a hand gently at the nape of his neck, and guided him back to the castle.

Raynor stands next to Uriel at this gathering of Warriors and comforts his friend.

"Yes," he says. "The Kaynanites have exiled their Watcher. But the time has come to restore all the lands of Paragon. Kaynan will be the first to reunite once again with the King of the heavens."

Uriel nods as he and Raynor wait for Paladin, the faithful guardian, who is tending to his wounds inflicted earlier that day by the Whisperer, Pernicious.

Paladin: Paladin's face and body, bronzed by the sun, confirms his battles are mostly fought in the realms of man. His scars are many and deep are his memories of them.

Pernicious, the Whisperer, and Paladin, the Faithful Guardian, were friends once when both served the King in the highest of the heavens. Together they witnessed the creation of all the worlds and fought side by side against the principalities of darkness.

Yet, the conflict between absolute good and the desire to serve and please oneself was constant in Pernicious. He was jealous of Paladin, which was most puzzling to the faithful Guardian.

Pernicious, once known as Talmud, was the keeper of all their laws and defender of all the sacred writings. Armed with wisdom and knowledge, Talmud led mankind on their paths of life-always a nudge in the right direction, delicately and quietly, and thus kept them from straying too far. Moreover, his skill with the sword was indeed a reason for envy. Nonetheless, Paladin showed no resentment towards Talmud, which bothered the latter to no end.

It seemed to Talmud that Paladin was highly favored over him by Raynor, the Prince of Warriors. Of course, he had no proof of this. Their gifts and talents were used accordingly. Nevertheless, it was what, or rather who, Paladin was chosen to guard that Pernicious desired-the Kaynanite named Ta-émarrah.

"Paladin cannot guard her as well as I can," Talmud argued with Raynor. The mighty Warrior disagreed.

It was then that Talmud sought out his friend and challenged him for the right to guard and protect the beautiful Ta-émarrah. Paladin, who could not understand such a challenge, turned his back on Talmud and walked away. Anger immediately stirred deep within Talmud's heart.

The faithful Guardian was caught off guard as Talmud's attack came from behind. Blow upon shattering blow Talmud inflicted on Paladin who crumbled to his knees. Yet, before he collapsed fully to the ground another kick to the face send Paladin flying between the Heavens and Eámanë. Talmud was out of breath as Paladin labored to find his strength.

Talmud was merciless. He wrenched Paladin by his long blonde hair and dragged him to the top of Mount Ardis. There he took his sword and with all his power pierced it through Paladin's left shoulder pinning him to the ground. Talmud showed no remorse when his friend's agonizing screams of pain echoed through dark and mist.

"Where's your skill and your might?" he sneered. "With what strength will you protect Ta-émarrah?" He yanked his sword out of Paladin's bleeding flesh, causing more anguish, and then ran the blade down the Guardian's face. "That will scar," Talmud said.

There, on Mount Ardiesé, Talmud left Paladin to suffer. Raynor came to his side and carried him into the soothing waters of the Effervescence River. After a time Paladin's wounds healed, but the scars remained.

"You came late to this gathering, Paladin," Raynor says. He touches a fresh wound on Paladin's face. "Another battle delayed your arrival?" Paladin nods and remembers the hours in the old forest before joining his fellow Warriors.

He had wrestled with his own feelings and, yes, his fears. (Understand that a Warrior's fear is different from that of a human's, as it grows out of concern for others rather than for himself.)

"You cannot stray, Paladin, my Warrior," the voice of the King spoke to him. "You are strong in mind, body and soul. Do not listen to the words of your enemy. There is nothing in their world you desire-nothing."

Nothing, Paladin thinks. He had only to take a good look at Pernicious who stood before him at the edge of the woods.

"Didn't die?" Pernicious inquires.

Paladin approached him. The advance caused Pernicious' claw to shake uncontrollably with anticipation. He would not have to cross the Effervescence, which would only burn him. His enemy had come to him.

Paladin slowly walked into the warmth of the river. At the lowest part of it, halfway across, he halted.

"Return his countenance as he was before," the faithful Guardian requests of the King.

Pernicious grinned with delight. "'Tis only fair," he mutters.

The petition was granted but not for Pernicious' sake. Transformation was swift within a blinding light, and with one horrid scream Pernicious once again became Talmud and stood poised for battle. The contest would be fair, even though in ages past, Paladin had not received the same courtesy. In this hour, however, the Guardian was well prepared.

Paladin left his hooded cloak in the woods beyond the river. His chainmail shirt was tossed upon it as he crossed the river and met his enemy-cautiously, slowly walking circles around him. Such a familiar sight it was to him-Talmud, beautiful, strong, yet no longer filled with a sense of belonging and purpose. Appearance can so easily fool.

Talmud mocked Paladin by folding his arms, a show of pride, no doubt. The crystal waters of Effervescence started to bubble, displaying frothy white peaks. Talmud worried. He unfolded his arms and moved away from the river's power.

Wind escaped from the old forest and picked up the stray leaves blowing a path to Paladin's feet. The God of nature, with all its beauty and strength, whispers, "I am with you, faithful Guardian." Paladin looked into his enemy's eyes and saw nothing but evil.

"You thought otherwise?" Pernicious said, knowing his friend's desire for him to return to all that is good. His voice is deep, raspy and depraved. It does not fit his appearance.

Paladin retreats, but no more than two steps. "How does it feel? Your former body?" he asks with a playful smile.

"No difference," Pernicious muttered.

Paladin grinned and said, "I think you are most incapable of telling the truth."

Talmud (acting more like Whisperer than Warrior) faced his foe and mirrored his every move. "So many scars on your body," he snickers. "Does anyone care?"

"Many," said the faithful Guardian. He knelt on one knee, letting the palms of his unshakable hand caress the freshness of soft grass. His demeanor bothered Talmud, to say the least, who shifted within inches from Paladin's face.

"Wouldn't you like to join me?" he whispered. "I know you have thought about it, even struggled with it. Why have such conflicts in your existence? I do as I please, take what I want, listen to no one. And there are things this world has to offer that have been kept from us, Paladin. It is all ours to take and to control."

"What do you control, Talmud? Where is your kingdom?" Paladin asked. "Who is a part of your kingdom? There is not one you can trust. And it appears no one follows you either. I am but one Warrior crossing the river and those with you have scattered to the hills. And Ta-émarrah . . . did you not forsake Paradise for her? Yet you know she will never be yours. It is only desire, after all."

"There will be no choice for her," Talmud bellowed. He was agitated and turned his anger towards Paladin. The Whisperer took one incredible Warrior-like leap into the cold night air aiming for the Guardian's head.

Paladin's skill allowed him to move out of harm's way. He pounced like a cat on prey completely avoiding Talmud's flight. Talmud landed hard on his back with a loud thump that echoed right through him. He rolled over, recovered slowly and sat like a wounded frog as madness and hatred filled his eyes. Talmud was wicked through and through and Paladin would not forget it.

The Warrior wiped his face, threw his Sword into the Effervescence River and stood ready to thrash his enemy.

"Fair enough," Talmud scoffed and charged towards Paladin.

For a second time, the Warrior moved effortlessly out of the way and with unexpected swiftness seized the forsaken Whisperer by the throat. A devastating blow to the chest knocked the air out of Talmud. Mercy abandoned the Warrior and Paladin crushed his victim's torso and shoved him deep into the Eámanëin ground.

Talmud grimaced, wrapping his huge hands around Paladin's throat. The Warrior smiled. He was not affected. "I don't remember you this weak," he said.

Paladin slammed his right fist into Talmud's sturdy jaw. Then, surprisingly, Talmud hammered his bony forehead into the bridge of the Warrior's nose. They both staggered a few feet away from the other. Their blood dripped generously. Each breath, for both, yielded great effort to survive this contest.

Talmud tried one more time to lure Paladin to his side. "Join me, Paladin," he pleaded. "We can do so much together."

Paladin was not swayed. "There is nothing you offer that is worth betraying the King."

"You've made your choice, then?" Talmud asked.

Paladin nodded. "A long time ago, you fool-a long time ago."

As he spoke those words, an inner strength filled the faithful Guardian. Talmud recognized the source of that strength and was deeply troubled.

"And so it ends," Paladin whispered. His attack was ruthless and direct. The fury of the elements clashed around them. White lightning struck as wind blew water, dirt and blood together. The smell of doom was nearby.

An unwavering assault on Talmud left him dangling in Paladin's arms. Every part of him was broken including his will to live. Yet live he must-in eternal agony, a deathless living in everlasting abandonment.

"Kill me, then," he begged.

Paladin pitied him but did nothing more. He watched the once mighty Warrior's body change back to the spiny and worthless creature, Pernicious.

At Paladin's feet, Pernicious' life lay sputtering in convulsions, defeated by his greatest enemy, though he could not quite remember why he hated Paladin so. He just did. The ground beneath scolded the Whisperer as he whimpered away in loathsome puddles of mud. Why can't I die, he thought.

Paladin turned his back. He walked into the Effervescence River where he eased his own wounds with the life-giving water. His scars remained.

Pernicious slithered slowly to the edge, "Let me die here in His water," he hissed.

Paladin looked over his shoulder. "Your life cannot end, Pernicious. Do you not remember the consequences of your choices?"

Pernicious then stumbled into the Effervescence hoping for an end, but the waters burned him alive. Paladin closed his eyes. A shell of a body floated upon the powerful river and carried it south to the Moribund.

Paladin's head is bowed as Raynor leads him to the seat next to him under the quiet of willow trees. The meeting begins with the Prince of Warriors welcoming them all. "The Kaynanites must fight and their Watcher must convince them," he says. Then he pauses. He looks to the east beyond the trees and riverbanks and hears the trumpet's call like distant thunder. "It has begun."